


A Lesson in Patience

by Loriella



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Eliot Waugh, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Sub Quentin Coldwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loriella/pseuds/Loriella
Summary: Once, in a tender moment of weakness, Eliot told Quentin that magic came from pain. It wasn't much later that he realized just how wrong he was. Quentin's powers came from his genuine, almost childlike love for all things magic. But in order to use it to its full potential, Quentin had to believe in himself. Which was by far the biggest challenge.---Or: Eliot helps Quentin study for his exams.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	A Lesson in Patience

So midterms in Brakebills were a thing, too. Quentin’s not really sure why wouldn’t they be, he just did not expect it to be announced two days before the exams started. And judging by how weird and almost impossible to pass their entrance exam was, he was fucked. And not in the way he’d like to be.

Quentin was currently sitting in the Brakebills library, slumped over one of the dozens of books he’d picked from the dusty shelves. He’d already gone through quite a bit of theory, but couldn’t get the tuts right for the life of him.

Quentin knew he was far from being the best magician in their year. He knew that his magical abilities were quite mediocre, if that. Quentin’s always needed a bit more time in class than other students, but what he lacked in skill, he usually made up for in enthusiasm.

Usually. But now, the more Quentin watched how easily and naturally magic came to other students, the faster his desire to become a proper magician was dwindling away. Quentin felt disappointment weighing down on his heart, making it even harder to concentrate. Seeing others succeed in the thing you’ve always dreamed about doing was incredibly disheartening.

Everything around him was moving, flying, changing shapes and colors, while he sat there, desperately trying to focus on the tuts instead of feeling sorry for himself.

His patience finally snapped when a perfectly visible apple which was sitting in front of one of the students just a moment ago finally turned invisible as she let out a victorious cry.

Quentin shot up from his chair, shut his book with a loud clap and took a stack of books in his hands awkwardly, hoping no one was paying attention to him. They probably weren’t. He stomped his way to the door, before stopping to come up with a way to open it without having to put the books down again. A second later, the door opened as someone shouted “Alohomora!”.

_Hilarious._

Quentin left the main building and quickly made his way to the physical kids’ cottage. He kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to see any other students and only letting out a quiet “thank you” when one of them held the door for him. He ran upstairs, feeling his arms start to shake under the weight of the books. Somehow he managed to get one of them free and knock on the door to Eliot’s room. There was a sigh and the sound of feet shuffling. The door opened, revealing a tired-looking Eliot behind it. The buttons on his west were undone and the tie was loosened. He was holding a glass of wine in his hand. Eliot’s annoyed expression quickly softened at seeing Quentin. There was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry for interrupting, I just remembered how you said I could come here if I needed a place to study and I tried to do it in the library, but there’s just so much noise and I just thought-” Quentin quickly glanced at Eliot’s amused face and faltered a bit. Oh god. Why did he think he could just randomly show up here like that? “Sorry, nevermind. I’m just gonna go.”

He started walking towards the stairs, but then the weight of the books halved and disappeared completely a moment later. For a second, Quentin thought his arms finally gave in, but when he did not find the books scattered all over the floor, he turned around to see them casually floating in the air towards Eliot’s room.

“Hey, what are you-”

Eliot just smirked and went inside without saying a word. Quentin had no other choice but to follow him. When he came in, the books were already set in a neat stack on the table and Eliot was draped over the bed, reading a book of his own.

Quentin felt his heart squeeze. He didn’t really understand how Eliot always seemed to know what exactly Quentin needed. Right now, he really needed some peace and quiet. He needed a place where he would feel safe and calm enough to concentrate on studying. In Quentin’s mind, there was no better option than Eliot’s room. Sure, he could go to his own, but apart from Penny being there to annoy the hell out of him, Quentin needed someone he could trust by his side. He couldn’t be alone right now, not when doubts if he was a magician in the first place started to cloud his mind.

Quentin sat at the table and opened the page with the spell he’s been trying to do since this morning. He tried the succession of tuts again. A tiny spark appeared at the tips of his fingers and flickered out a moment later.

“Fuck me.”

Quentin turned the page to try another spell and winced quietly as soon as he saw the instructions. These were just as hard as the other ones, if not more. He studied them for a bit and when he was sure he got the order down, he tried repeating them a few times, just to get confused in the movements and get a painful cramp in his wrist.

Frustrated, Quentin sprang up from the table and started pacing around the room. His lips moved as he recited the instructions quietly to himself. It took him a few minutes of walking to and fro to feel eyes on him.

Eliot was laying on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows, eyes lazily following Quentin. Everything about him was screaming relaxed and languid, the total opposite of Quentin, whose anxious energy filled the entire room.

“You won’t be able to do it, you know.”

Quentin stopped in his tracks, finally tearing his eyes away from the book.

“What the fuck?”

“You need to relax, Quentin. Or you won’t be able to do it.”

Quentin closed his book with a loud clap, his expression annoyed.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” he barked, which only made Eliot raise his eyebrow and an amused smirk appear on his face. Quentin sighed.

“Sorry. I’m just so-” Quentin trailed off, not sure how to describe exactly _what_ he was.

“Stressed? Anxious? Tense? I can go on.”

Quentin let out a startled laugh.

“Well look at you, Mr. Thesaurus,” he said as he went to sit beside Eliot. “But yeah, to all of those.”

Eliot hummed and pressed a quick peck to Quentin’s lips.

“You’re overthinking it. You have to feel magic, let it flow through you.”

“Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

Eliot flicked Quentin’s nose playfully.

“You’re a baby magician, Q. You need to listen when people give you advice.”

Quentin lowered his head to hide the blush at being reprimanded by his boyfriend.

“Stop thinking about what you’re doing with your hands and focus on what you want the result to be.”

“How do I- Do you really expect me to do the tuts right without thinking about them?”

Eliot nodded.

“You’ve been staring at that book for hours, Q. You already know them. You need to trust yourself and let go for a bit.”

“You know you’re talking to me right?” Quentin laughed. “I can’t just “let go”.”

Eliot knew Quentin was right. He was always so wound up, so anxious about everything, and now, when the exams were coming up and he hasn’t been able to do a single spell right, he was practically radiating nervous energy.

“El, I can’t afford to fail,” Quentin said quietly. “I can’t lose magic I- I can’t go back. They are going to wipe my memory, aren’t they? I don’t want to forget magic. I don’t want to forget _you_ -”

His rambling ended in a choked whisper, his hands trembling slightly. Eliot felt his eyes widen at the sudden mood shift. At first he found Quentin’s anxious demeanor endearing, but now he saw how terrified the boy actually was.

_Oh, Q, can’t you see how talented you really are?_

Even though Quentin needed a bit more time than everyone else to be able to control his magic, it always felt different. His magic had this incredibly pure, almost innocent feel to it. Once, in a tender moment of weakness, Eliot told Quentin that magic came from pain. It wasn’t much later that he realized just how wrong he was. Quentin’s powers came from his genuine, almost childlike love for all things magic. But in order to use it to its full potential, Quentin had to believe in himself. Which was by far the biggest challenge.

Quentin was fiddling with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly, trying not to picture himself flunking the exam, having his memory wiped and returning to Brooklyn. He was so deep in thought, that he didn’t even notice Eliot wrapping his hands around his waist and pulling the boy into his lap. Quentin let out a startled squeak, but Eliot only pulled him closer, hugging him protectively, as if trying to shield the boy from the world.

“Magic is a part of you, Quentin. It will always be. No one can ever take it from you.”

Something in the way Eliot said it made Quentin’s throat constrict and his vision go blurry. He nuzzled into Eliot’s neck, breathing in his scent. The confusing, but familiar mix of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke instantly soothed Quentin’s rapidly beating heart and he felt his muscles relax slightly.

“I don’t know any other person who deserves magic more than you do. I won’t let them take it away from you. I promise.”

Eliot pulled away to kiss the top of Quentin’s head and then went back to hugging him tightly. He held him until he was sure Quentin was calm again.

Eliot couldn’t stop a smile when he saw Quentin’s flushed cheeks. The boy met his eyes shyly and smiled back, feeling warmth spread in his chest.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Q. How about we try the spell again, yeah?”

It seemed like Eliot had no intention of moving Quentin from his lap, much to the boy’s delight. He nodded and his fingers started moving quickly, repeating the movements from the book. A few translucent sparks appeared in the air, only to vanish a second later. Quentin made an affronted noise.

“But I- I did it right! El, I did it-”

“Shush, baby Q,” Eliot almost laughed when he saw Quentin pout. “The movements were right, but you’re still too tense. Maybe we postpone training for now?”

“No!” Quentin shouted in protest. “I just have to relax. I can do it.”

Quentin closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly for a minute. He tried to concentrate on the spells, imagine the movements and somehow didn’t even notice when his thoughts returned back to failing the exam. His brows furrowed and he shook his head to make the thoughts go away. Eliot wasn’t exactly sure what was going on in Quentin’s head, but he could clearly see that it wasn’t helping. He cleared his throat to get Quentin’s attention. When the boy looked up, Eliot asked:

“You want me to help?”

He waited for a nod and then leaned over the bed to pick up the half empty wine glass. He gave it to Quentin who just eyed it for a second and looked up at Eliot in confusion.

“Drink.”

Eliot had to hold back a laugh when the boy threw his head back and downed the wine in one big gulp. Quentin was about to thank Eliot for the drink, but got interrupted by a pair of lips on his own. Eliot put his hand on the back of Quentin’s head, pulling on his hair lightly and the boy couldn’t help the whine that slipped from his lips. Eliot bit Quentin’s lip and then soothed it with his tongue, licking off the tart taste of the wine. Everything went quiet for Quentin. Suddenly, there were no more anxious thoughts, no insecurities, no doubts. No matter how much they kissed, Eliot always had this effect on Quentin. He felt safe. Wanted.

Quentin flinched a little when the glass he was holding just a second ago met with the floor with a sharp shattering sound. He felt Eliot smile into the kiss and whimpered quietly when he finally pulled away. Eliot moved his leg a bit so that his thigh was pressed right against Quentin’s groin. He wasn’t surprised to find the boy excited already. Quentin moaned softly and started rocking forward, feeling the tips of his ears go red with embarrassment. He tucked his nose in Eliot’s neck, breathing out harshly.

“That’s right, baby.”

Quentin shut his eyes tightly and started moving faster. Eliot was just holding him close, enjoying having this whimpering and moaning boy in his lap. A minute or so later, he felt Quentin start to tremble.

“You close?”

Quentin didn’t even have time to be embarrassed about how fast Eliot could make him come, because as soon as he nodded, Eliot moved his leg back to its previous position. He felt bad for doing it, but it was the quickest and the most effective way to get Quentin distracted. And he couldn’t let the boy come, because he’d just turn sleepy and sluggish.

Quentin let out a painful sounding sob.

“Shh, you’re okay. We shouldn’t get too distracted.”

“El, please,” Quentin whispered, trying to rut against Eliot’s leg again, feeling even more turned on by the wave of shame spreading over his body. When Eliot placed his hands on Quentin’s hips to stop his movements, the boy was almost thankful to Eliot for not letting him embarrass himself even more.

“No, Q. Not today.”

Eliot’s strict tone contradicted with his gentle fingers, wiping the tears that had gathered in the corners of Quentin’s eyes. Something in his voice made Quentin nod and lower his head submissively.

“That was a dick move,” he grumbled.

Eliot laughed.

“But it got you distracted, didn’t it? You can get the rest after you pass your exams. Now, let’s try the spell, shall we?”

Quentin nodded and tried his best to sit in a way that wouldn’t constantly remind him of the situation in his pants. He shut his eyes and just breathed deeply for a moment, before starting with the tuts again. He concentrated on the book on Eliot’s bedside table, imagining it disappearing. With every new move, every crook of his fingers, Quentin felt an intense wave of energy flow through him. It felt like tiny needles were prickling the tips of his fingers, but the were no sparks this time round. Quentin felt like all the energy just left him suddenly, leaving a pleasant feeling of fulfillment behind. He stared at the table for a second in confusion. The was no book lying on it anymore. A huge grin appeared on his face as he turned to Eliot again.

“I did it, El!”

Somewhere deep inside, a tiny vexing voice was whispering to him how pathetic he looked when he got excited over such small things. But the genuine pride in Eliot’s eyes made it go quiet again.

“You did, sweetheart.”

Quentin tried the spell a few more times.

***

Quentin was trying his best to keep his cool. Excited energy was bubbling up inside him, threatening to spill over with a joyous cry. He left the main building and rushed to the cottage.

He aced it. He wasn’t going to go back. He could keep magic. He was good at it.

Quentin giggled quietly to himself at the thought.

It was hard to believe that a few hours ago, just before the exam started, Quentin was on the brink of a panic attack. He felt like every little cell in his body was trembling with fear and anxiety. At some point, the boy found it hard to breathe properly, taking uneven, shallow breaths that made his lungs burn. The only two things that helped him were Kady telling him to “grow a pair” and a note from Eliot, which read “ _Find me after the exam ;)”_. It was mainly the note.

And that was exactly what he was going to do right now.

The door to the cottage flew open, nearly knocking one of the students off his feet. Quentin rushed in and was about to go upstairs when he heard Eliot’s delighted laugh coming from the main room. Then, he noticed music blaring all throughout the cottage. He stepped down a stair and tentatively made his way towards the source of the noise. He passed a few groups of students, picking up separate strands of conversation on the way. They were sharing their plans for the holidays. Quite a few of them were holding glasses full of colorful cocktails, some of them even had lights coming out of them, like tiny fireworks. The music was getting louder as Quentin neared the main room. He sighed. He wasn’t the biggest party fan.

The main room was crowded with unruly students, some of them were so drunk already that their obscene dance moves made _Quentin_ blush. Margo and Eliot, unsurprisingly, were the center of the whole event, occupying one of the sofas. One of Eliot’s hands was thrown over Margo’s shoulder protectively, the other was holding a glass with an amber liquid in it. He was swirling it around from time to time.

Quentin wasn’t sure why, but he felt a sudden urge to hide. He stepped behind a group of students and peeked his head out to look at Eliot. A whole swarm of horny students was buzzing around Eliot, trying to bring him to their rooms. Their desperate attempts to catch his attention were crushed by his bored and extremely uninterested expression. It seemed like he was searching for someone in the crowd, his gaze never really stopping on anyone for long.

“Hey, what’s up?” said one of the students Quentin was hiding behind.

“Sorry,” Quentin squeaked quietly and stepped away.

Now he was standing right in Eliot’s line of sight, no longer obscured by furniture or other people. Which is why it took Eliot all of two seconds to notice the boy, who was awkwardly shuffling his feet and squeezing the strap of his messenger bag in his hands. The corners of Eliot’s mouth lifted up in a gentle smile, his eyes seeming to shine brighter. He whispered something to Margo quickly and went up to Quentin.

“I heard about your exam,” Eliot said when he approached Quentin.

“Don’t believe anything they say!” Quentin rushed, assuming Eliot was talking about the incident before the exam.

“Oh?” Eliot lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. “So you didn’t ace it? And Fogg didn’t personally congratulate you?” 

Quentin blinked.

“No, that’s true.”

“You did well, Q.”

“Your- um. Your note helped me.”

“Did it now?”

Quentin nodded, but then bit his lip unsurely.

“This isn’t what I expected, exactly.”

A sly smirk appeared on Eliot’s face then.

“It isn’t? And what did you expect, exactly?”

Quentin looked at Eliot, not really sure how to answer and if it was best not to. Did he misread something? Didn’t Eliot promise they’d-

“Don’t make me say it.”

The boy’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Eliot just laughed softly and took Quentin’s hand, leading him somewhere.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“You have to learn patience, baby Q. Come on, I think you need a Jack & Coke,” Eliot turned around for a second, looking over Quentin. The boy was stumbling over his legs, trying to catch up with Eliot. “Or a strawberry mojito.”

***

A few hours later physical kids spread out all throughout the cottage, so the main room wasn’t nearly as crowded anymore. Quentin felt like he could finally breathe easier. There were only a few people playing pool in the corner of the room and one was passed out on a large bean bag.

Margo, Alice, Eliot, Quentin and a few knowledge and nature students were sitting in a semi-circle on a big fluffy carpet in the middle of the room. Each of them had a shot glass full of some orange drink sitting in front of them. Quentin eyed it apprehensively for a second. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what awful combination of ingredients Eliot had come up with this time.

“Never have I ever,” Margo narrowed her eyes suspiciously before continuing. “Slept with someone of the same sex.”

Quentin couldn’t help a grimace at the foul smell of the drink. Wanting to be done with it as soon as possible, he threw his head back, downing the shot quickly. Alcohol burned its way down his throat, leaving a bitter aftertaste behind.

_What the actual fuck, Eliot._

“What the fuck was that?” one of the nature kids coughed out.

“Whiskey, tequila and tabasco,” Eliot grinned and started moving his fingers quickly to fix them another drink. Quentin was so mesmerized by the graceful movements of Eliot’s hands that he didn’t even notice their glasses filling up again.

“Couldn’t we just get beer or something? Like, red solo cups? You know, how everyone else does it?” Nature kid asked, eyeing his shot suspiciously.

Eliot gasped in pure offence. Quentin snickered. The guy has obviously never been at a physical kids’ party before.

“Only over my dead body.”

It was then that Quentin noticed Alice wince as she put the glass back on the floor.

“Alice, did you-”

She just blushed and lowered her head bashfully. Margo came to her rescue.

“What’s it to you, Coldwater?” she moved closer to Alice in what she hoped was a subtle way. “It’s your turn.”

Quentin thought for a bit.

“Never have I ever been arrested.”

“Is that really the best you can do?”

“What, you can do better?” Quentin asked, cringing a bit at how obviously offended he sounded.

“Even a fifth grader could, sweetie.”

Quentin was about to say something bitter in return, but the words got stuck in his throat when he felt Eliot’s hand caressing his thigh softly, soothing.

“Leave him be, Bambi. Let’s play.”

Eliot, Margo and two knowledge students drank their shots.

“What?” Eliot asked, when he saw Quentin look at him with a strange expression. “I learned that magic was real. Do you really think my adolescent self wouldn’t take advantage of that?”

Quentin thought it would be best not to press for more. For his own benefit.

“Never have I ever imagined having sex with someone in this room.”

Quentin choked on his spit suddenly, feeling his cheeks go red. Eliot was still rubbing his thumb on his thigh gently. He watched Margo, Alice and Eliot drink their shots and then downed his own. Even if he noticed Alice and Margo exchange a look, he chose not to comment on it.

It was Eliot’s turn to ask now and Quentin just _knew_ he wouldn’t like whatever was about to come out of Eliot’s mouth.

“Never have I ever wanted to be tied up during sex.”

Eliot said it so casually that for a moment the weight of his words did not register for Quentin. It was only after Margo drank her shot and turned her expectant gaze towards Quentin that he realized _what_ exactly he was being asked.

And– _no._

There was no way he was drinking that shot. There was no way he was admitting this in front of everyone. And _especially_ not in front of Eliot. No.

Quentin felt hot all over and he could only hope his inner panic wasn’t showing. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands quickly, praying no one would notice that they were trembling. He could feel eyes burning through him.

“Are we playing or what?” someone asked, confused and totally unaware of Quentin’s state. Good.

“We are,” Eliot said, and if Quentin wasn’t a bit preoccupied at that moment, he would notice the clear note of guilt laced in his voice. He moved his hand to rest on the back of Quentin’s head and squeezed gently, hoping it would calm the boy down like it usually did. Eliot could feel how hot Quentin’s skin was beneath his fingers.

Quentin missed a few turns and only came to when he heard Margo say, “Never have I ever used a toy in bed.”

He watched Eliot drink and his brain kind of- switched off again. This time, however, it was for a whole different reason. He was trying his hardest not to imagine Eliot using sex toys on someone or, better yet, _himself_. The more scenarios went through Quentin’s head, the tighter his pants got. Eliot’s hand still lying on the back of his neck certainly didn’t help.

“Never have I ever had a one-night stand.”

“Never have I ever gotten a lap dance.”

“-had a threesome.”

“-nudes.”

“-swallowed-”

Quentin watched Eliot down shot after shot, only little pieces of broken sentences reaching his ears. He picked a moment when everyone was distracted enough not to notice him pulling his hoodie over the obvious tightness in his pants.

He must have done a poor job, because as soon as Margo put her glass back on the floor, she said:

“You really should take him to your room, El. Or he’s going to poke someone’s eye out with that thing.”

There was a pause. And then,

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Quentin’s miserable moan caused a few muffled chuckles, which only made the horrible feeling of embarrassment in his stomach grow worse. He stood up quickly and hurried upstairs after leaving a weak excuse. He really wasn’t sure where he was planning to go, he just needed to be alone for a bit. It was suddenly too much. He really wasn’t a fan of parties.

Maybe he could hide out in Eliot’s room until everyone leaves? Or, like, forever?

Quentin entered Eliot’s room and shut the door behind him quickly, not even bothering to turn on the light. He slumped against the door, struggling to even out his breathing. Quentin really hoped Eliot wouldn’t go after him. But then, of course -

“Q?” Eliot’s tentative voice came from behind the door. He knocked softly. “You okay?”

Quentin swallowed.

“Yeah?”

“That a question?”

“I’m okay,” he was sure Eliot wouldn’t miss the uncertain waiver in his voice.

“Could you open the door for me, then?”

Quentin wanted to say no, but then just sighed, defeated. What was he going to do, lock Eliot out of his own room? There was a soft click and then the door was open, a sheepish-looking Quentin standing behind it.

“Sorry.”

Eliot flicked his fingers and the lights were on suddenly. He stepped inside and wrapped his hands around the boy protectively. Eliot couldn’t help a fond smile when Quentin nuzzled his nose into his chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said into Quentin’s hair. “Q, it’s okay. There’s no reason to get so upset. They’ve smoked and drank enough to forget everything that happened in the past week. And even if they hadn’t, no one would care, okay?”

Eliot genuinely didn’t see any reason to be embarrassed, this cottage had seen much more _crude_ things in the two years he’d lived here. He knew, however, that Quentin’s brain was wired differently. The boy always jumped at the tiniest opportunity to beat himself up over something.

“You think so?”’

“I know so.”

Quentin sighed and pulled away a bit, his expression pensive. Then, he nodded.

“Okay. I still can’t believe Margo would say that, though,” he mumbled, eyebrows knitted into a frown.

“She just said what everyone else was already thinking.”

Quentin gasped in shock and wiggled out of Eliot’s arms, making him laugh softly.

“Okay, but you do realize how that doesn’t make me feel better?”

Eliot’s face softened into a gentle smile, his eyes glinting with mirth.

“You know how much she loves you, Q. Also, lucky for you I can think of a couple of ways to make you feel plenty good.”

Quentin looked up at Eliot, returning the smile.

“You do?”

“You want me to show you?”

“Yeah,” Quentin whispered, and then added as an afterthought, “Please.”

The boy had this _look_ on his face that Eliot couldn’t quite place. But then he noticed the slight flush on Quentin’s cheeks, the desperation in his eyes, the need to be _understood_.

And. Okay. They were in that territory today. Eliot felt his heartbeat pick up suddenly, excitement rushing through his body. The thing with Quentin was, sex was never boring with him. There were times where Quentin would be demanding and impatient, not afraid to boss Eliot around a little if it meant getting exactly what he wanted. And Eliot loved that side of him. Admired, really. Because Quentin trusted him enough to go from shy and reserved with everyone else to brave and confident when they were alone. There were also times when Quentin wanted to let go, to give himself over to Eliot completely and get out of his head for a bit. And that required a whole new level of trust.

It didn’t happen very often, but when it did, Eliot was ready to take care of his boyfriend, to remind him that it was okay not to have control over every little thing in his life, that it was okay to be vulnerable sometimes.

But no matter how much Eliot wanted that right now, he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea after all the shots they’ve done. Even though Eliot had incredible alcohol tolerance, he wasn’t so certain about Quentin. That boy was definitely a lightweight.

“Do you feel tipsy, baby?”

_Baby_. 

Quentin shook his head quickly. Eliot stepped towards the boy to put his hand on Quentin’s lower back and pull him closer.

“Can you use your words for me?”

Quentin’s breath hitched as he realized where Eliot was going with this. Eliot knew exactly what he needed right now, that little word made him understand. And for that, Quentin was thankful. He was definitely not at that point where he could ask for it explicitly. Not yet.

“I’m not tipsy, I promise. I’ve only had two shots. Please, El.”

Eliot nodded. Okay, they were doing this.

“Such a polite boy,” Eliot muttered to himself, going to take off Quentin’s hoodie. He pulled it over the boy’s head and made a quick job of unbuckling Quentin’s belt and pulling his jeans down. Eliot took Quentin’s hand, sat him on the edge of the bed and planted himself on his lap in one smooth motion.

Eliot couldn’t help a smirk when Quentin looked up at him with that innocent look on his face that only made Eliot want to absolutely _wreck_ the boy. He leaned in to press a kiss to Quentin’s lips, making him gasp softly. Their mouths moved together in sync. A bite, a lick, a moan- and then they were both left breathless and panting into each other’s mouths, foreheads pressed together.

Eliot put his hand on the nape of Quentin’s neck, squeezing it once and then pulling on his hair to make Quentin lift his head and give Eliot better access to his neck. As soon as he did that, Eliot latched his lips to the side of the boy’s neck and started sucking and biting the sensitive skin there gently, making Quentin let out a filthy moan. Quentin loved being marked, being _claimed._ Especially when he got like this. Eliot knew that and hell if he wasn’t going to use that to make Quentin feel good.

Eliot pulled away and blew on the red mark, smiling to himself as he watched Quentin shiver. He leaned in to press a kiss to the boy’s chest, feeling Quentin’s heart hammering away. Eliot looked up and saw Quentin’s wild eyes, his mouth hanging open in a silent plea. 

“El, please,” Quentin managed when he saw Eliot looking at him. He tried to move his hips up to show Eliot how hard he was, but with Eliot’s weight on his lap, there really wasn’t much movement.

“Patience, little one.”

Quentin groaned in frustration.

“Eliot, my dick hasn’t been touched since midterms started. If you don’t do something right this fucking second, I swear I’ll explode.”

And there it was, Quentin’s bossy side. Eliot’s eyebrows raised in surprise slightly. If Quentin really wanted to let go, Eliot needed to take him deeper.

“Oh, you’ll explode alright,” Eliot said, a smirk coloring his voice. 

He got up and sat on his knees in front of Quentin, putting his hands on the boy’s knees and pushing them apart, so that there would be enough space to fit in between. He didn’t hesitate to press his mouth right above the waistband of his boxers and suck another mark there.

“Fuck-”

Eliot brought his face lower, mouthing over Quentin’s cock, breathing in his scent. He opened his eyes to see Quentin’s hands clenching in the sheets, his stomach muscles going tight. Eliot smiled into the fabric. Quentin was losing control again.

Good.

Eliot grabbed the waistband and tapped Quentin’s thigh, signaling him to lift his hips so that he could take the boxers off. Quentin did and then he was naked, his cock hard and flushed against his stomach. He didn’t even have time to blush about it, because the next second Eliot was wrapping his lips around him, sucking almost all the way down. He wrapped his palm around the base of Quentin’s length, feeling him pulse underneath his fingers. Instinctively, Quentin thrust his hips up and groaned when Eliot took him deeper. Encouraged by Quentin’s happy little moans, he started moving his head up and down quickly, swirling his tongue towards the end. Quentin tossed his head backwards and cussed quietly to himself, overwhelmed by the heat around his cock. Eliot flicked his tongue over the head and licked of a drop of pre-cum that’d gathered there. He looked up at Quentin’s face, feeling a rush of pride spread through him at how ruined his boyfriend looked, his lips bitten red and cheeks flushed. Eliot started suckling on the head of Quentin’s cock, making him exhale sharply and buck his hips up again.

“El, I’m- I’m close-.”

When Eliot didn’t let up and just continued bobbing his head, Quentin’s fingers slid into Eliot’s hair and pulled lightly, just to get a reaction. Eliot pulled away, but not before flicking his tongue across the head once more and making Quentin whine.

“What’s wrong, baby? I thought you wanted to come?”

“Want your fingers,” Quentin said, looking away. “Can you- Um.”

“Of course, Q. Lay on the pillow for me, okay?”

Quentin nodded and laid down quickly, waiting for Eliot, who was already in the process of undoing the buttons on his vest. When he finally took his clothes off, he turned around to see Quentin moving his hand up and down his cock lazily, his eyes hazy and following Eliot’s movements.

“Hey, no touching, Q,” Eliot said as he got on the bed. He had to slap Quentin’s hand away when he didn’t listen. “Are you being naughty on purpose?”

Eliot meant it in a joking way, but then he saw Quentin’s eyes darken, a little shocked moan coming out of his throat.

Interesting.

“Yeah? You like being naughty, sweetheart? Want me to punish you?”

Quentin’s eyes flew up to Eliot’s, his expression a mix of eager and disbelieving, like maybe he expected Eliot to laugh at him. Which he would _never_ do, now that he knew. Apparently, this was really doing it for Quentin.

Eliot leaned down to place a sweet kiss to the corner of Quentin’s mouth, smiling gently.

“Not tonight though, okay? We need to talk before we do anything like that.”

“Yeah, I- Yeah. Thank you, El,” Quentin whispered.

Eliot leaned over his bed, searching for a bottle of lube that he kept under it. He grabbed it and popped the cap open, squeezing some on his fingers.

He carefully pressed his pointer finger against Quentin’s hole, just rubbing it back and forth until he felt the boy relax. Eliot pressed his finger in slowly, watching Quentin’s reaction. The boy just let out a quiet moan and turned his head, trying to hide his face in the pillow. He still wasn’t really used to being watched so closely.

After getting a frantic nod as an okay to continue, Eliot pressed another finger in, scissoring them to stretch Quentin. He started to curl his fingers slightly, pressing against a small bump suddenly and causing Quentin to arch his back and throw his head back with a whimper.

He continued rubbing his fingers into Quentin’s prostate until the boy was writhing and sobbing underneath him.

“You’re so lovely, aren’t you, baby? So good at taking my fingers,” Eliot leaned in to whisper in Quentin’s ear. The boy gasped and wrapped his hands around Eliot’s neck, pulling him in for a messy kiss.

“Eliot, please-” Quentin wasn’t really sure what he was pleading for, too overwhelmed by the constant wave of pleasure rushing through his body.

“Shh, you’re okay.”

“Fuck me. Please, El. Want you to,” Quentin moaned again. “Fuck me.”

Eliot would lie if he said he didn’t expect Quentin to say that. He pushed the third finger in, stretching the boy out quickly. When he pressed his fingers into Quentin’s prostate again, the boy thrust his hips up, his stomach muscles tensing.

“Gonna come,” he sobbed out, clenching the sheets in his hands until his knuckles turned white.

And shit, Eliot did not expect Quentin to be this close already. He couldn’t let Quentin come now, he wanted to draw it out more, to make Quentin wait for it, so that his release would be so much sweeter.

“You’re not,” Eliot pulled his fingers out suddenly, leaving Quentin empty and crying out weakly. His hand flew up to guide Eliot’s fingers back to his hole, but in the end he just grabbed Eliot’s arm, digging his nails in a little. Eliot hissed at the sudden pain, but didn’t pull his arm away from Quentin’s grasp. He pressed his lips against Quentin’s temple and whispered gently. “I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re being such a good boy right now. Can you breathe for me?”

Eliot started rubbing Quentin’s thigh with his thumb soothingly, waiting for him to come down from the edge. Quentin drew in a shaky breath.

“That’s it. You’re alright. Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Don’t have to wait anymore.”

Eliot moved quickly so that his cock was nudging against Quentin’s hole. He leaned down, pressing their lips together as he pushed inside slowly. Quentin gasped into the kiss, legs wrapping around Eliot, bringing him closer. Eliot pressed further slowly until he bottomed out, feeling Quentin clenching and unclenching around him. He was so tight and hot inside that it took Eliot all of his willpower not to come right that second. He pulled away from the kiss and looked at Quentin, studying his face for any sign of discomfort.

“Doing so well, baby. How do you feel?”

Quentin opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Eliot, his expression completely blissed out.

“Full. Perfect.”

Eliot smiled and leaned in to nip gently at the sensitive skin right under Quentin’s jaw while he waited for the boy to relax around him. Quentin cried out weakly when Eliot brought his hands up to circle and pinch at his nipples. Finally, Eliot thrusted his hips a bit experimentally, and, satisfied by Quentin’s reaction, started moving in and out carefully, reveling in soft whimpers Quentin let out.

When Eliot changed the angle, so that he would hit Quentin’s prostate, the boy cried out suddenly, his back arching.

“There! El, more- please, El-” Quentin threw his head back, choking on a sob when Eliot started moving faster, hitting his prostate with each thrust.

Quentin felt like he could float away, all the pleasure making his head spacy and hazy. He could hear his own voice babbling something nonsensical, but couldn’t really focus on anything.

Then, Quentin went limp, his fingers unclenching the sheets, eyes glassy, cheeks red, hair thrown all over the pillow.

“That’s it, Q. You’re safe, you’re okay,” Eliot pressed a light kiss right under Quentin’s eye. “Love it when you get like that. All pliant and sweet for me.”

Soft little moans and gasps filled the room as Eliot started moving slower and deeper, pressing soothing kisses all over Quentin’s face. Eliot stopped thrusting for a moment, just staying buried deep inside, his cock pressing right against Quentin’s prostate. He looked down, seeing Quentin’s flushed cock twitch on his tummy, lying in a small pool of pre-cum that’s collected there.

“You’re leaking so much, baby,” Eliot whispered in Quentin’s ear, somehow making his cheeks turn even redder. He turned his head, overwhelmed by all the attention. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking into the pillow. “You feel so good, Q. So tight around me, so perfect.”

And then Eliot started moving again, hard and fast, intent on making his boy completely fall apart under him. He wrapped his hand around Quentin’s cock and started jerking him quickly, making the boy open his eyes in shock and buck his hips up, thrusting into Eliot’s hand. Eliot felt his stomach muscles tighten, heat settling there, his thrusts becoming faster.

“Eliot,” Quentin hiccupped out, still fucking into Eliot’s fist.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

And Quentin did, as if on command. His body froze up suddenly as he started to come, mouth open in a silent moan.

“There we go. Good boy,” Eliot grunted when Quentin clenched all around him, shaking through his orgasm. He went to pull out to finish off on Quentin’s chest, but the boy made a panicked noise, hands flying up to grab at Eliot’s shoulders.

“Come inside me. Please, El. Want you to.”

Eliot groaned, already so close to the edge. He thrust his hips three move times and spilled inside Quentin, feeling all his muscles go lax.

They laid there for a few minutes, tangled up in each other, just trying to catch their breaths and come down from their high. Quentin winced when Eliot finally pulled out, come already starting to leak out of him.

“Sorry, baby,” Eliot was sure Quentin wouldn’t want to move, even if he could, so he did a quick spell to clean themselves up and threw a blanket over them, cuddling close to his boyfriend. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of Quentin’s hair back behind his ear. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips when Quentin wrinkled his nose cutely at his hair tickling his face. The boy opened his eyes and took a second to focus on Eliot’s face, not quite back yet from his floaty headspace. “No rush, Q. You’re okay. Did so well for me. You’re such a brave boy for letting go like that. Love you so much.”

Eliot continued whispering soothing praise in Quentin’s ear, stroking his hair gently until Quentin stirred and his eyes seemed to clear from the fog.

“Hi,” he said quietly, looking up into Eliot’s eyes.

“Hi, baby. How do you feel?”

“ _So_ good. I think I really needed that.”

Quentin couldn’t stop a happy smile from splitting his face and Eliot immediately had the urge to poke the boy’s dimple. Which he hid, making Quentin laugh.

Eliot let himself just lie and relax for a few minutes, enjoying having his boyfriend in his arms. Quentin was practically radiating happy and content energy and Eliot felt a certain sense of possessiveness and pride spread in his chest because he knew that he was the only one who could make Quentin feel like that. Like he could let go of his control completely and trust Eliot to make him feel better.

Eliot was so lost in his affection that it took a minute for him to notice Quentin start to stir and a slight frown appear on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked quietly, afraid to startle the boy from his thoughts. When Quentin looked up at him, lower lip caught in between his teeth, Eliot brought his hand up to stoke his thumb across Quentin’s brow gently until the worried wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out again.

Quentin sighed.

“It’s just- I’m sorry for freaking out when you asked about, uh, wanting to be tied up and all that,” Quentin stuttered through the phrase. “I’m just not very good at discussing my, um, _preferences_ in public.”

Eliot looked at Quentin for a moment, bewildered. Sometimes he thought he knew how Quentin’s head worked, but then there were times like this, when he doubted if Quentin knew himself.

“Why are _you_ sorry? Quentin, I’m the one who should be sorry. It wasn’t cool to bring it up like that.”

“You couldn’t have known, El.”

Eliot figured it was as good a time as any to strike up that conversation. He wouldn’t let Quentin lose his nerve, but it would be so much easier for him to open up to Eliot when he was still pliant and a little bit floaty.

“I know now, though,” Eliot trailed off, feeling Quentin tense up slightly against him. He started stroking Quentin’s back soothingly, hoping it would help him relax. “Do you want to tell me about it, sweetheart?”

Quentin looked away.

“What’s there to tell?”

“Tell me why you think you’d like it.”

Quentin groaned and buried his face into Eliot’s neck and Eliot didn’t even have to look to know that the boy’s cheeks were now the most beautiful shade of pink. He pulled Quentin closer, bringing their bodies flush together. Eliot couldn’t help a fond smile when he felt how hot Quentin’s skin was against his own.

“I think it would be similar to this thing,” Quentin waived his hand between him and Eliot. “You know, the whole “giving up control” thing. I don’t know, I think it would just be on another level, yeah? Like, you would have even more control and I would have no choice but to, uh, give it up. And I think I’ll need that sometimes,” Quentin exhaled softly against Eliot’s neck, stopping himself from rambling even further. “Sorry, I’m not making sense. I told you, I’m not good at talking about this.”

Eliot pulled away to look into Quentin’s eyes, hoping he would see all the love and adoration swimming in his own.

“You make perfect sense, baby. Thank you for telling me that.”

Quentin smiled shyly and pressed himself closer to Eliot once again. It was as if he was physically unable to stay away from him even for a second. Maybe he was clingy after sex, okay, what about it.

“Are you not going to ask about the other, uh, thing?”

Eliot couldn’t stop a laugh.

“You have such a way with words, Q.”

“Stop teasing me!” Quentin slapped Eliot’s chest lightly, but he had a small smile on his face as well.

“Do you want to talk about it right now?” Eliot asked carefully, even though he felt like he already knew the answer. This was a difficult topic and they were nearing some heavier stuff that Eliot was sure Quentin wasn’t ready to talk about just yet.

Still, he gave Quentin time to think about it and decide for himself. Eventually, the boy shook his head.

“Maybe not right now.”

Eliot carded his fingers through Quentin’s hair.

“That’s okay, little one. I won’t rush you into anything you’re not ready for. Just know that you can come to me whenever you want to talk about anything that’s on your mind, okay? Don’t keep it all in, it’s not good for you.”

Quentin nodded against Eliot’s chest, not even bothering to suppress a yawn. He suddenly realized how tired he actually was, all the exhaustion from midterms finally catching up with him, now that he let himself relax.

Eliot felt Quentin’s body sag against him and figured it wouldn’t be too long before he’d fall asleep. He opted for gently stroking his boyfriend’s hair to lull him to sleep quicker instead of bothering him with conversation. He did, however, let himself say one last, the most important thing.

“Love you, baby,” Eliot whispered, before placing a quick kiss on Quentin’s forehead. His heart melted a little when he saw the boy smiling softly, his eyes sleepy. “Sleep now, lovely.”

Quentin draped his leg over Eliot’s, tangling them together. For a second, his eyes stopped on a full-length floor mirror in the corner of the room, but then he let them drop shut, already drifting away into sleep.

“Love you, too.”


End file.
